


Blue Eagles Flying

by earthsgayestdefender



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bernadetta von Varley Needs a Hug, Bisexual Female Character, College, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Romance, Slice of Life, Trans Bernadetta von Varley, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthsgayestdefender/pseuds/earthsgayestdefender
Summary: For her college years, Ma. Anna “Annette” Fatima Dominic wants to get As in all her classes, get the highest position in all her fourteen orgs, and be the star soprano in the Ateneo de Garreg Mach Glee Club —  all in the hopes of gaining the attention of her father, a reclusive faculty member who hasn’t breathed a word about his return from abroad.Meanwhile, Bernadetta Varley Matalas just wants to survive… and find a plug in Arete that’s NOT occupied by another human being.Or: the bernie/annie ateneo au, a love letter to my former school, my darling friends, and my amazing sweetheart <3
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Blue Eagles Flying

**Author's Note:**

> one order of bernie/annie filipino college au coming up! this work is for the ultra rarepair big bang hosted by the wonderful mods of @ultrararepairb1 on twitter!! this work is a collaboration between me and my girlfriend, kristi, who drew the amazing art and helped me plan these plot threads <3
> 
> a few things:  
> \- this is a really indulgent AU that may not make sense to anyone who's not Filipino/familar with Atenean customs HAHA so feel free to comment anything that may be confusing if ever! sa mga kapwa atenista diyan, sana ma-enjoy niyo to HAHA  
> \- since this is a filipino college au, characters have had their names and backgrounds changed to make sense with the context. however i tried my best to keep them as close to canon as possible (ex: annette's still called annette despite having a different name). ferdinand is an exception because that name has political significance in the philippines  
> \- TWs for this chapter include allusions to bullying, parental abuse. (accidental?) transphobia wherein bernie gets dead-named (by a well-meaning yet ignorant character) and has an anxiety attack. tbh she's kind of on the verge of one this entire chapter, so please take care if you're sensitive to such depictions. (note: i am a trans man who has gone through similar anxieties and experiences as bernadetta so these hit close to home. please know that i tried to depict such experiences with as much gravity and respect as possible - but that my experience doesn't speak for all trans people or people with anxiety  
> \- LAST NOTE: but in relation to above, my depiction of bernadetta differs from canon in that i tried to give proper gravity to her anxiety while maintaining the general romcom/slice-of-life vibe of the fic. these initial chapters get kind of heavy at times to establish the characters, but my end goal is to have bernie & annie as bi disasters blushing at each other HAHA
> 
> THATS IT HOPE U ENJOY <3

Bernadetta wants to go home.

Coming home means packing up and returning to her _father_ , but even the harsh scowl on his face would seem comforting in its familiarity… at least when compared to the looming structures of blue and white, halls filled with the terrifying abyss of the unknown.

At her mother’s behest, Bernie had moved into the campus dorms two weeks ahead of schedule. It had been **terrifying** _exhilarating_ to move away from the only home she’s ever known. Kind of like riding those fifty-foot roller coasters that Bernadetta knew she’d never be allowed on. 

Bernadetta faced many challenges and temptations as she unpacked box after box. She had grappled with the newfound freedom of being able to order the sushi and anime merchandise she ever wanted. She was addicted to the liberty of sleeping late with her eyes glued to the dim light of her phone, til the logo of archiveoftheirown website started to blur.  
  
(Most importantly, she was able to email her professors about her.... Circumstances. It took multiple hours of researching templates with her uncle; but after eons of typing and retyping, Bernie found what she wanted to say. Although some of the older teachers needed clarification, most of them were pretty understanding. 

It was starting to give Bernadetta hope.)

It was a grueling, mystifying freefall. She didn’t know if she could ever go back.

But being free from her father was seemingly nothing compared to the daunting task before her: the Freshman’s Orientation Seminar or OrSem, as it was colloquially known. It is a program meant to help freshmen get a glimpse of life at Ateneo de Garreg Mach before the school year officially started. This two-day event would help freshies get a taste of what they were to undergo in the next four years or so.

The OrSem is being held at the covered courts, where people are gathering like lines of ants attracted to sugar. Pop music blares from booming speakers, pounding along with Bernadetta’s heartbeat. Ateneans dance atop plastic chairs, screaming singing their hearts out and waving multi-colored signs in earnest.

It is downright terrifying. Bernadetta wants to go home.

She imagines listening to nice, calming music with her succulents, surrounded by the comfort of her posters of Misa Amane from Death Note. She longs to sit on her bed, knitting all her worries away instead of being rooted atop this grassy hill, being unable to face her future head on.

To make matters worse, it starts to rain. 

Bernie tries to breathe, tries to recall those anxiety management techniques she and her uncle looked up — but dread clutches at her chest, freezing her lungs and making it hard to gulp in air. Her stomach’s in knots. She knows she can’t stay here for too long, but her feet feel stuck in the mud. 

And so, despite shaky fingers and trembling knees, Bernie reaches in her bag and tries to retrieve her foldable, panda-themed umbrella. At the back of her mind, Bernadetta thinks that she probably just run to the courts, but honestly, she still has half-a-mind to spend the day cowering in the clinic by blaming her aching stomach—

“Look out!” comes a shout near her ear. Bernie turns around, gets a faceful of _pretty girl_ , all energy and excitement and limbs flailing everywhere, seemingly running (skidding?) toward her at full-speed. Thankfully, the girl manages to reel back before they collide — but not before Bernadetta screams a little and sees the wide-eyed, terrorized excitement that flashes in the other's blue eyes.

 _Contacts_ , she registers amidst the pounding of her heart beneath her fingers. Just like the ones Bernadette dreams of getting one day, when she isn’t so afraid of accidentally poking her own eyes out.

“Whoops, I am so sorry! I didn’t expect it to be so slippery!” The girl bows her head with a sheepish smile. It’s warm and blinding, just like the sun that Bernadetta rarely gets to see. “Thanks for the umbrella, though! Are you alright?”  
  
Still startled, Bernadetta nods slowly. She’s trying to find a way to ask for the girl’s name, ask where she bought her contacts _and_ look into her eyes _all at the same time_.

The girl spares her the trouble and toil of thinking.

“I’m Annette, incoming freshman! Oh, well, I guess I already am one, huh?” Her laugh is a pleasant bellchime that resounds in Bernadetta’s ears, drowning out the ratchet from the gym and the noise from Bernadetta’s own thoughts. “Are you one too?”

“Y-yes!” She got a word out! Score one for Bernadetta!

“I—” Annette’s words are interrupted by the incessant pouring of raindrops, slowly and steadily growing stronger. It drips onto her shoulder, staining her blue shirt despite the tiny umbrella shielding them. “Oh no! We should get under cover!”  
  
With a second thought, Bernadetta follows her into the unknown.

  
  


* * *

It is chaos.

Amidst the other bleary-eyed, lost-looking freshman being herded around like sheep, Bernadetta is surrounded by upperclassmen practically vibrating with energy. They shout many important platitudes such as “GO FRESHIES!”, “ORSEM! ORSEM! ORSEM!” and “ _TANGINA, UMUULAN BAKIT ANG INIT PA RIN_!” amidst an upbeat, catchy song that Bernie’s heard on Spotify shuffle a few times.

_She took my arm_

_I don't know how it happened_

_We took the floor and she said,_

Giant speakers continue to blast the song from near the front stage. Bernadetta’s too short to see over the crowd, but she guesses that they’ll be led to sit around the stage for some sort of welcoming program.

She really hopes she doesn’t have to introduce herself in front of all these people…

_"Oh, don't you dare look back,_

_Just keep your eyes on me!"_

_I said, "You're holding back"_

_She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"_

Bernadetta does her best to wipe the mud off her shoes in the tight space. After closing her umbrella, she turns to look at her companion, a guiding light amidst the pandemonium.

Panic seizes Bernie's chest when she realizes that she can’t see Annette through the sea of bodies. She frantically whips her head to and fro, trying to find those bright blue eyes and wide, cheerful smiles.

_This woman is my destiny_

_She said, "Ooh-ooh-hoo!_

_Shut up and dance with me!”_ _  
_ _  
_ What greets her instead is a towering, gaunt man dressed in all black, save for the name tag at chest that says “TNT Hubert.” He does not look like someone who belongs in this buoyant, energetic crowd… or like someone Bernadetta would like to piss off.

“Bernadetta Varley Matalas?” TNT Hubert asks in a low voice that Bernadette imagined would come from the Grim Reaper himself.  
  
“Eep! Th-that’s me!” _Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—_

TNT Hubert holds out a rectangular cardboard placard looped with purple yarn. “This is your name tag. Keep it on you for the duration of the program. I’ll be leading you to your blockmates now.”  
_  
_ _Oh no, more people!_ This was even worse.

With no more hope of escape, Bernadetta dons her nametag and follows him to a line of white plastic chairs. Her seat is near the end, a fact she is grateful for (less people, a quicker escape route), until TNT Hubert hovers next to her, apparently standing guard. She quickly puts down her bag and sits, prim and proper in her chair like she’s been taught.

_Please, please, please don’t get mad…_

TNT Hubert starts to dance.

Stiff and awkward, TNT Hubert raises his arms up and down repeatedly, trying to match the bouncy beat of the songs. His face remains a dark, stoic mask though it all, even when he knocks into Bernadetta’s chair a couple of times.

A small laughter bubbles in Bernadetta’s throat, unbidden. She manages to slam a hand over his mouth before TNT Hubert’s glare falls upon her.

“Is something the matter?” His voice is a stark chilling contrast from the humid weather. “Do you have to go to the restroom, Bernadetta?”

Finally, a safe haven from small talk! Bernadetta quickly grabs her phone, earphones and tissue from her bag. She’s prepared to sequester herself inside until the end of the program when— 

“Wait!” A pretty girl in a purple hijab calls out. She's wearing a red shirt similar to Bernadetta’s own. Red, the blood of angry men, and the color of their block, apparently. “I am also needing to go to the bathroom.”  
  
“You can go together,” TNT Hubert says, pushing them both into the wilds of the courts.

They start walking towards the general vicinity of the bathroom. Despite the general noise, it's quiet between them. Thankfully, the other girl doesn’t seem angry or even annoyed at Bernadetta’s company. She even offers a warm smile when Bernie dared to glance in her direction. _She seems nice..._

While she hadn’t been particularly eloquent in her earlier conversations (if you could even call them that), Bernadetta is suddenly struck with the urge to say something. She had vowed to try to be more confident in college. Maybe the third time’s the charm. 

(And if it fails, she can just lock herself up in the stall and try to flush herself down the toilet! TNT Hubert can deal with the remains after he’s done with his attempts at square-dancing.)

With a deep breath, she turns to the girl and blurts out, “I’m B-Bernadetta! It’s nice to meet you!” _Please don’t get mad at me!_

“Hi, Bernadetta.” The girl offers another smile, somehow more welcoming than the last. “You may call me Petra. It is nice meeting you too.” 

Silence fills the space between them yet again. Bernie’s thinking of rushing to the bathroom to escape the awkwardness when Petra speaks, head ducked in abashment. “...I am sorry if my English speaking is weird.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Bernadetta hastens to reply. “I-I’m…. I’m not that great of a talker either!”

Petra looks comforted. “Then we can learn together, friend!”

 _Friend?_ Bernadetta can’t barely believe her ears. She rarely had friends in her childhood. Her father had made sure of that. 

Making friends was one of her aspirations in college, but she didn’t think it would happen so quickly.

It feels too good to be true.

Despite the rapid pounding of Bernie’s heart in her chest and the cacophony of noises outside the bathroom, she and Petra managed to carry out a (successful!?) dialogue about where they live (Petra comes from Davao, a place Bernadetta knew her father would never let her visit), and what movies they liked (Petra was fond of swimming; she was shocked to find out that Bernie had never gone to a beach before).

By the time they made it back to their chairs, Bernie was feeling light-headed in a way she had never felt before. It was a feeling akin to anxiety, yet it was… oddly pleasant.

Petra continued to talk to her (thank the goddess they were seatmates!), while looking around at their future blockmates. A book covered the face of a boy with dyed green hair (how lucky that his parents let him!) slouched in his seat, a few chairs over. On the row before them, a fashionable girl with a black cap was trying to not laugh at her seatmate’s enthused attempts to copy the ‘ORSEM dance’ (it was, at least, better than TNT Hubert’s… _movements._ )

TNT Hubert himself was muttering over the disappearance of a person named ‘Caspar’, rubbing his hands together ominously. Bernadetta decides not to dwell on that.  
  
Eventually, the program kicks off to a start.

The school’s president, Brother Seteth, gives a talk. He is a strict man, setting down rules of conduct and emphasizing on Ignatian values that makes Bernie cringe a little. Ultimately, he ends on a warm note of care and concern for the student body.

The polite smattering of applause in his wake is followed up by excited cheers as the ORSEM hosts take the stage. A charming, easy going guy called Claude and a stylish, charismatic girl named Hilda begin riling up the crowd and telling tales of their own experiences in Ateneo. 

Their banter was funny — something Bernadetta tries to remember as inspiration for her next fanfic — amidst the many performances and speeches that ensued. There was so much to keep track of: from study tips from upperclassmen to energetic dances by the esteemed Garreg Mach Dance Crew to fifteen whole minutes of advertising sponsors. Although she couldn’t remember the speaker, Bernie finds these words ringing in her ears:  
  
_“Today marks the start of your college life. You are all like seeds planted in the ground, having to bear hardships like harsh drought or overflowing rains… but I hope you know that every challenge can help you grow.”_ _  
_

Right now, she’s worried about a lot of things. Will she be able to handle the pressures of constant social interaction on campus? How many terror professors will she have to face in a day? Most pressingly, is TNT Hubert secretly a serial killer in disguise?

It is incredibly daunting. Part of her thinks she won’t make throughout the day, let alone four years of this.

(It’s years in the future later that Bernadetta will be able to look back on these words with a smile on her face and a diploma in hand.)

* * *

“Bernadetta.”  
  
TNT Hubert’s voice sends chills down her spine. She quickly yanks her bag straps over her shoulder and turns to her side, ending up face-to-face with the devil himself. Bernie barely gets to muffle her squeak.

“Since the program has ended, it’d be wise for you to catch up to the rest of the line, or else…” 

The threat hangs in the air, lingering long after Bernadetta dashes past the rows of plastic chairs to follow her blockmates. She had been hoping to… not avoid exactly, but merely follow them from a comfortable distance of, say, twenty meters.

Unfortunately, TNT Hubert and his cohorts are determined to keep the freshmen together by block, telling them to “Brisk walk! Don’t run!” (which didn’t make a lick of sense) and to “Bridge the gap!” (which… still doesn’t make sense, but Bernadetta’s not about to question them).

In her haste to bridge whatever gap they were referring to, Bernadetta nearly runs into a brunette with purple ribbons in her hair. 

“Hello,” the girl says. Although she’s dressed in the same red shirt and maong jeans as the rest of them, an aura of regality exudes from her. “My name is Edelgard. I’m German on my mother’s side. You are…?”

_Starting to get overwhelmed by the amount of beautiful girls in the school._

“Bernadetta,” she squeaks out under the girl’s intense and beautiful violet gaze. More contacts. Unlike Annette, however, Edelgard’s gaze was colder, more serious. 

Edelgard nods and begins the dreaded social interaction. Although she is only a few inches taller, Bernie still finds herself more than a little intimidated. Especially so, when Edelgard turns the conversation about their ages to the K-12 program that needlessly kept people grades behind others while meddling with the country’s educational programs, affecting the people’s economic statuses, and _don’t you think that’s utterly despicable, Bernadetta?_

While Bernadetta herself was fortunate enough to escape that fate, she’s wide-eyed at how much Edelgard knew and how passionate she was about politics. Pinpricks of shame pluck at her with how little she’s able to contribute to the conversation. Her efforts to reply are hampered by social anxiety and the pressure to keep up from the TNT’s constant yelling at them to go faster (without running).

Fed up with this, Edelgard aims a tired glare at TNT Hubert who was creeping up behind them. “Do you really have to repeat that? Not all of us are born with giraffe legs such as yours.”  
  
Fear strikes at Bernadetta’s heart. She isn’t entirely sure if she was friends with Edelgard yet — and now she’s going to lose her?

 _TNT Hubert, have mercy on her!_  
  
To Bernie’s complete and utter surprise, TNT Hubert chuckles. It’s a creepy, sinister little laugh, but it conveys his amusement all the same. “Apologies, milady. It’s in the rules.”  
  
_Milady?!_ While TNT Hubert isn’t sporting a fedora, Bernie is now able to confirm that he was without a doubt, 100% evil.

“Don’t mind him.” Edelgard tells her, sighting the expression of horror on Bernie’s face. “It’s just an inside joke between us. Hubert and I go way back.”

“Really?!” _How did you survive?!_  
  
A genuine smile crosses Edelgard’s face. “Yes. Ever since we were toddlers. Oh, I remember that time he came to preschool with all of his clothes backwards —”  
  
“Edelgard, please.” A red flush spreads over TNT Hubert’s sallow cheeks. This dispels Bernadetta’s new theory of him being a vampire.

As much as Bernadetta finds their _gap moe_ banter almost adorable, her heart falls a little in her chest. She remembers the bonds of what might have been. She wonders if she’ll be able to form a bond like that in Ateneo de Garreg Mach, especially with Petra and the others…?

It is a question that haunts her well into the introduction session of their program. 

The freshmen are led into a classroom and made to sit in a big circle. Although it is quieter and less chaotic than the covered courts, an uneasy sensation swarms in Bernie’s stomach. She knew they had to introduce themselves eventually; she had even written down and practiced her own speech several times. 

The more intimate atmosphere and the idea of getting to spend four years with these people was a sudden, daunting thought that suddenly hit her like a sledgehammer. Her heart flutters in her chest like a trapped butterfly as the seconds tick by to that fateful moment.

TNT Hubert and his partner, a cheerful boy of nondescript features, kick off the introductions. Bernie could barely hear the words the mantra in her head: _My name is Bernie, I’m seventeen years old, and I like reading… my name is Bernie, I’m seventeen years old, and I like to read…_

By the time the circle of introductions land on her, Bernie fumbles her way through the words quickly and quietly, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Huh? I didn’t hear—” A high-pitched voice cut in, but it is drowned out by the next speaker, the stylish girl with the black cap from earlier. She introduces herself as Dorothea, a singer who hoped to join the esteemed Ateneo de Garreg Mach Glee Club. As the others offered well-wishes and “good luck!”s, Dorothea turns to Bernie and winks, whispering that she was doing great.

The warmth of her words helps thaw the frozen rigidity of Bernie’s anxiety, just a bit.

Unfortunately, it isn’t over yet. The TNTs announce the group dynamics, a series of games meant to foster harmony and bonding between the block. Bernadetta was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, she could get through this day in one piece. 

The first group dynamic is a girls-versus-boys game where they have to guess the title of the song that their group’s representative would sing. The catch is that, instead of words, they have to make the sounds of their assigned animal. (The sight of TNT Hubert barking out the tune of _Can’t Stop the Feeling_ , with his monotone voice and deadpan face, further quells the butterflies in Bernie’s stomach).

She’s about to walk over to the girls’ side with a renewed sense of confidence, especially at their familiar faces, when a hand lands on her shoulder.

Startled, Bernie tensed and whirled around to see: Fernando “Ferdie” Aguila, one of the most popular boys back in Ateneo de Garreg Mach grade school.  
  
“Excuse me,” he says, “we’re over here. Wait… aren’t you—?” 

Bernie’s vision fuzzes at the edges, her eyes focusing on the way his mouth forms to make that name she thought she’d be free from hearing. He seems nice and polite about it too, ecstatic at placing her familiarity in a past she wished to forget. 

In truth, she can’t actually make out the words anymore: their horror is drowned out by the blood rushing in her ears, their blow hitting Bernie in the stomach way more than if Fernando had punched her in the gut. 

_You don’t belong here,_ is the only coherent thought that passes through the frazzled remnants of her thoughts. _Stop trying to be something you’re not._

She runs and doesn’t dare look back.

* * *

Holed up in the bathroom, Bernie is perched on the closed lid of a toilet with her knees pressed to her chest and her arms around her legs.

Just like the old days.

The realization is painful, a powerful blow that hammers against the cracks of her naive, hopeful heart. The fissures widen with each silent, heaving sob that wracks her body. 

_Why did I ever think things would be different?_

Although she had started out in the all boys’ Ateneo Grade School, she harbored hope that college would be _different._ People would be nicer and more accepting, and _she_ would be different: more confident, approachable, and most importantly, more _herself_.

Instead, Bernie feels like she’s plunged back into the old days where boys had sneered and jeered her for being too soft and feminine — until she was found with purple polish on her nails and a doll in her backpack. 

Those were small tokens of defiance against a society that forced her to be someone she wasn’t.

When her father found them, he sent Bernie to homeschool for most of her high school life: both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she got to escape the bullies for the time being, and a curse because she couldn’t abscond from the horrors in her own home.

There really was no place where she could be herself, huh?

_Don’t cry, don’t cry…_

Just like the old days, hot tears begin to streak down her cheeks in a ceaseless stream. Her shoulders shake with uncontrollable sobs, but Bernadetta does her best to keep quiet. Silent, out of sight and out of the way is how she usually is, and maybe it’s how she should stay—

“Bernadetta?” A knock of her stall door. “It’s Edelgard. I’m here with Petra. We’re worried about you.”  
  
Inside her own self-created safe-space, Bernie stills. No one’s ever run after her before.

“I’m sorry about Fernando,” Edelgard says. “Hubert and I grew up with him, and he’s had this habit of accidentally offending people. He has a good heart—”  
  
“But it does not excuse any of what he did.” Petra’s voice is surprisingly firm.  
  
“Right,” Edelgard agrees with no hesitation. “Dorothea’s talking to him right now, so he might come along to apologise soon.”

“He’ll be in _here_?!” Panic lashes at Bernadetta, along with the sheer irony of the situation happening in the girls restroom.

“Just outside,” Edelgard speaks soothingly. “If you want us to tell him to leave, we can.”  
  
_Yes, please go away_ , Bernie wants to say. _Please don’t make me come out of here._ She wants to stay in this stall and never come out.  
  
“Please, take the time you need, Bernadetta.” Petra’s voice carries the weight of her concern. “Do you want some food or water? I got too many from the program earlier.”  
  
“Ah yes, that would be the millions of sponsors they got.” Edelgard chuckles. “I have too many crackers myse—.”  
  
“Why are you doing this?” Bernie’s question is rushed and ill-timed, but she can’t hold it in. She doesn’t understand what they want with her or why they won’t leave her be.

( _Are you going to hurt me too?_ is the real question behind her words.)

A deep sigh. “Well, this isn’t official, but… earlier, Hubert asked if I was interested in being the block’s representative: someone who’d talk to the professors on the block’s behalf, and who’d be the de-facto leader. I feel responsible for Fernando, and I’m concerned about you too, Bernadetta.”  
  
“M-me?”  
  
“Yes. While we haven’t talked much, we’re still part of the same block. We have to look out for each other.” Although she can’t see Edelgard’s face through the wooden door, Bernadetta can imagine her smiling. “Besides, you listened to me nervously rant on about politics earlier. It’s the least I can do for a friend.”  
  
_Friend_. The word is warm, like a big hug around Bernie’s tense shoulders.

“And while I can’t understand what you’re going though exactly,” Edelgard continues, “I’d hate it if someone outed me, accidentally or not.”  
  
The implication dawns on Bernadetta like the dawning rays of a rising sun.  
  
“I agree,” Petra says. “For me, it is already hard being a gay Muslim girl. I think we are all deserving of respect.”

Tears well up in Bernadetta’s eyes. The feeling of being known, of being understood, is foreign to her… but not wholly unwelcome.

It takes her a few minutes to compose herself. “Th-thank you… all of you… It means… It means a lot that y-you'd do this for me…!”

To her embarrassment, Bernie launches into a fresh round of crying; Petra and Edelgard don’t seem to mind, however. They respectfully wait for her sniffles to subside, along murmured offers to bring her tissue and water.

“I-I’m going to be okay,” she manages eventually. For once, it’s something she knows to be true. While she still feels winded from these bursts of emotion, like fireworks flaring onto her chest, and the dull ache in her heart from wounds that haven’t fully healed, she knows that they will pass.

Perhaps maybe her newfound friendships won’t.

“Y-you guys should go-go ahead! I’ll catch up after f-fixing my hair..” Bernadetta’s voice still quivers with the remnants of her sobs, but her words are imbued with a quiet resolve. 

She wants to see her friends.

A thoughtful pause passes. “Alright,” Edelgard says, not unkindly. “We’ll just be in the classroom, then.”  
  
“Be seeing you soon, Bernadetta,” Petra chimes in warmly before the sounds of footsteps and a door gently closing reach Bernadetta’s ears. 

Bernie unlatches the stall lock and opens it a crack, peeking out with all the caution of a started fawn in the wilds. True to their word, Petra and Edelgard have left, with only a water bottle and some crackers on the sink serving as indication of their presence.

Feeling her throat start to tighten again, Bernie opens the water bottle and gulps all of it down. She pockets the crackers and turns to herself in the mirror. The same terrified face from this morning greets her, now with reddened eyes and an added air of fatigue. 

Bernadetta doesn’t attempt to fix her messy mop of hair (it’s as good as it’s gonna get), but she does have to address the Post-Crying look. She grabs some tissue, runs it under water and presses it onto the puffy skin under her eyes. She lets her shoulders fall and takes in deep, calming breaths.

_In and out… In and out... You got this, Bernie…_

After a few minutes, she feels like she’s nearer to the edge of calm than the urge to run away screaming. She doesn’t know what exactly awaits her on the other side of the bathroom door, but for once, she’s not entirely afraid.

She has friends waiting for her outside.

Bernie’s just thrown her trash away, hand reaching out for the handle of the door when a voice, distinctly masculine and apologetic, calls out, “Bernadetta?”  
  
_Oh no. Oh no no_ no _._

“It’s me, Fernando. You might not want to see me right now, and that is okay. You do not have to open the door. Please just listen.”  
  
“...”  
  
_Maybe if I pretend to be dead, he’ll go away…_

“I wanted to say that I am very sorry for hurting you.” 

Sadness and shame color his voice as he continues, “Dorothea and the others educated me about how I should not have assumed anything, just because we were classmates back in grade school… which was not as nice a place as I would like to remember.” 

Bernadetta opens her mouth to respond, but he quickly speaks again. “I have always strived to be a good person, and I promise I will not repeat my mistake. I should have asked for your name and pronouns instead of telling you what to do the first time.” The way he speaks is a little stiff, a newly indoctrinated ally testing the vernacular. “If it’s okay with you, can we try this again?”

“...Okay.”  
  
“I am Fernando Aguila!” For some reason, the dramatic way he introduces himself makes her want to laugh. “He/him pronouns… but honestly, I did not think I could choose otherwise.” 

A metaphorical lightbulb goes off in Bernadetta’s head. His pensive tone reminds Bernie of herself back then. 

“I am Bernadetta.” She tries copying his confidence but leaves out the shackles of her surname. “She/her pronouns only please… and you’re free to have whatever pronouns you want, you know.  
  
“...Thank you,” he says softly. “Do you want to come back? The others and I are still worried about you, but it is always your choice to come out or not.”  
  
A funny choice of words. She’s not sure if Fernando is entirely aware of the implications.

Nevertheless, Bernadetta takes a deep breath. These whirlwinds of conversations felt like the longest hours of her life, but she’s grateful for them. It hasn’t been easy (nothing really is), but Bernadetta has gotten through most of it in one piece. 

She leans against the door and thinks of the faces of all the people she’s met today: the cheerful Annette who had yanked her into the fray, the terror that is TNT Hubert (and his equally horrifying/hilarious dance moves), and the welcoming warmth of the girls in her block. Nervousness still nips at her when she thinks about talking to the other boys, but the worst of it seemed to be Fernando who realized his mistake and even _apologized_ to her.

Instead of making enemies or ending up all alone, she’s gained friends.

Perhaps miracles did happen when one tried hard enough.

Bernadetta unlocks the door. With determined steps, she walks out into a whole new world—and a whole new her.

* * *

Gilbert Gustavo Eduardo Dominic.

His picture hangs in the Ateneo de Garreg Mach faculty boards, so close yet so far out of Annette’s reach.

Father's visage is as gaunt and heavy-set as she remembers... but the gray streaks in his hair are new. She hopes he's been taking care of himself.

Annette just wants him to come home.

It's been more than four years since he left their family, imposing a self-exile out of shame for how his local business crashed and burned. He went abroad, sending Annette and her mother money and _pasalubong_ out of a sense of atonement — but not once did he reply to their pleas, filling his letters with apologies and promises of sending more riches, more reparations.

Annette just wants him to come home.

It's her main reason for choosing Ateneo de Garreg Mach. She knows it won't be easy, but she won't give up. With her living in the campus dorms, they're bound to run into each other at some point. Even if she has to turn over every metaphorical rock in the school, she’ll find him.

And maybe, if Annette works her way to the top, there's no way father would be able to ignore her. He'll _have_ no choice but to pay attention to her accomplishments she’ll rack up.

No matter what happens, Annette vows to bring him home.


End file.
